


we're going to die tonight (in your dreams, carnival bastard!)

by AgentVive



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crack, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, and cookies, and take no prisoners, and they're going to break reality to do it, because i haven't written the next chapters yet and i'm sure i'll have a lot to say about them, clown cars, is sorta canon but isn't really canon, knives are involved, nothing makes sense, send help, there are TOO MANY CLOWNS, they're going to get out of this collab alive, unbeta'd so there will be some errors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentVive/pseuds/AgentVive
Summary: The guests were invited to Everlock and forced to participate in deadly challenges against their will. But, the thing is, will can be quite a strong thing. Especially the will to survive- and the will to bestow a hurricane of utter devastation on whoever tries to kill you. Expect Hijinks, Low Jinks, Usual Jinks and just complete plot weirdness!





	we're going to die tonight (in your dreams, carnival bastard!)

**Author's Note:**

> And thus we begin this story with the first challenge! Prepare for clowns, novelty chicken knives, clowns, people with terrible knife throwing skills, clowns, clowns coming back to life for the sake of exposition, clowns, a car with a portal to some sort of demonic clown dimension, clowns, shoddy workmanship, clowns, highly responsible clown car drivers, clowns, and a lot of clown-related juicy violence!
> 
> I hope you like whatever this is because I need vindication for this fic that will send me to hell
> 
> (oh, and did I mention that it has clowns?)

 

It was the end, JC was sure of it. Safiya had managed to finish the challenge before Matt, and now those damn clowns were lining up their knives with his most precious organs- positively LICKING THEIR LIPS at the thought of his blood being spilt.

 

If JC didn't know any better, he would've thought that they were a bunch of cannibals. But then again, the longer he hung on this wheel spread-eagled, the more he realised that he did in fact not know these clowns, and that they were probably indeed cannibals for all he knew.

 

If anything, they didn't look like the sort to dig graves.

 

_Dammit Matt! Why couldn't you win?!_

 

At least Matt looked somewhat contrite. He was staring at the floor, a despairing look on his face. He didn't look at JC. JC could tell that he was trying not to.

 

Bracing himself, he looked directly at the clowns in front of him. If he was going to go out, then he wasn't going to go out a coward. He could see everyone else watching him out of the corner of his eye.

 

Stuff the whole hippie thing. This time, he was going out a Daredevil.

 

“We have a winner! And better yet, a-”

 

CRASH!

 

All of a sudden, Teala's wheel falls over onto the stage in front of him and breaks partly in half. Safiya’s eyes had leapt towards the wheel, a look of complete shock and fear on her face. JC understood her fear- he was certain that Teala had just been on that wheel. If it had broken in half, was Teala okay?

 

“Woah, okay, that was NOT secure at all.”

 

Speak of the devil and she shall arrive.

 

Teala stepped out behind the tent curtain, eyes wide in surprise. Somehow, Teala had managed to get out of her bonds while everyone was concentrated on JC, and had snuck around the back to push the wheel over. With that, Safiya appeared to slump in relief- Teala looked unharmed, without a scratch on her bodysuit. Heck, even he and Matt were also pretty relieved about it (judging by the look on Matt’s face and his own slightly untwisted gut), and they were the losing team!

 

“Damn, I was just on that? That looks hella dangerous, just saying. Do you clowns even know how to nail two pieces of wood together? I mean, I would’ve thought that you were all good at it- you know, considering that you all know your way around a hammer. I suppose I couldn’t expect much, especially if your carpentry is as good as your fashion sense.”

 

The clowns now looked pretty offended, with some of the clowns actually bearing their teeth and poking various knives in her direction (Including, but not limited to- a chef’s knife, a survival knife, a dinner knife, a steak knife, a swiss army knife, a boning knife, what looked to be a saw (to the clowns it was a ‘wood knife’), a novelty knife (decorated with some happy little chickens), a kid’s play kitchen knife and a large mallet. Which also had a knife sticking out the top.)

 

(JC had to admit; though their fashion taste was simply abominable, they had good taste in sharp objects. Or, at least, semi sharp objects.)

 

“So, shall we get this party started?” Teala smirked, looking behind her.

 

To JC’s surprise, Teala was looking at Roi, who was now peeking out of the curtain. And, with a quick glance around, he definitely wasn't the only one startled. Everyone, including the clowns, was now staring at Roi as though he had grown horns.

 

Stepping out into the ring, Roi suddenly raised his right hand, revealing a bottle of alcohol. And, with a smash, he threw it on the ground and screamed.

 

“SCATTER!”

 

And the party began.

 

Matt quickly raced over to free JC, aiming a swift derrìere kick to one clown who had crept too close for comfort and a fan kick to another.

Teala tackled a clown to the ground, and smashed a chair over the head of another. She then grabbed yet another chair, and hurled them both around like a whirlwind, catching various people as she went- including some of the guests she was fighting with.

 

Roi gave a roar, grabbing whatever projectiles he could find (including the broken glass from the bottles) and was now hurling it at any clowns he could find, quoting lines from action movies and just plain going berserk. It was admirable if not utterly terrifying both to the clowns and to the guests trying to fight said clowns.

At one point, he'd even gotten on top of the cup tables, knives in hand, and was now hurling them at whatever looked like it should belong in a circus. (Though ‘anything that looked like it should belong in a circus’ included the tent flaps, platforms and props he kept hitting because he kept missing his actual targets. JC couldn't say much for his aim, apart from the fact that he no longer wanted to play the Walter to Roi's William Tell. Not that he had ever wanted to anyway.)

 

Safiya, being the Immortal Guardian Of The Newly Collected Artifact(™), wisely decided not to participate in the skirmish for fear of potentially breaking it and instead run back to the Divine Lounge to stow it before the clowns realised that a revolution had just occurred (which they pretty much had already realised, but they couldn't chase after her now.)

 

Back to back in the tent, Teala holding a chair, JC holding the knife mallet that one clown had the misfortune of dropping in battle and Matt wielding the novelty chicken knife in one hand with a rubber chicken in the other (no-one knows how he got that one), the three stood their ground, thoroughly bludgeoning anything and everything that stood three feet in front of them.

 

“Hey, JC. No hard feelings for losing the challenge?” Matt asked.

 

JC shrugged. “Eh, someone had to lose. It's a pity it was me. Besides, I would be more mad, and I’ll probably vote you into the next few challenges out of spite but since we're killing it here and are clearly getting out of it all alive, I don't care.”

 

Matt grinned, relieved. “That's good. I'm super glad Roi showed up when he did, though-”

 

Suddenly, a knife careened between Matt and JC's heads, almost shaving Matt and giving JC such a fright that he almost dropped his knife mallet. Teala bounced backward and gave Roi a death stare. “HEY! Watch where you're throwing those things, idiot!”

 

“Oh crap, did that almost get you? Sorry!” Roi yelled. JC sighed.

 

“Showed up, yes. Helped out, not so much.”

 

Matt's lips pursed. “Well, I'm still glad, though.”

 

After a few minutes of silence, in which all four guests in the room had managed to stab and/or deck anyone with coloured noses within ten feet of themselves, Teala scanned the room. “...Do you think this is all of them?” She wondered.

 

“Oho, you think it’s over?” One of the clowns at Teala’s feet answered. JC’s eyes snapped down in time to watch a sick smile grow inhumanly wide on their face. “Oh, you naive little IDIOT! This is only the BEGINNING!! HERE COMES YOUR. WORST. NIGHTMARE!!!

 

And it immediately resumed 'being dead.'

 

All four of the guests stared. JC carefully poked it with his mallet-knife. No response. Roi threw a knife at it, and missed completely. Still no response.

 

"Did it just-" Teala breathed out. "Did it seriously just resurrect itself or something?!"

 

"I thought you guys had taken care of all the clowns down there!" Roi shouted across, his voice unnerved.

 

"...yeah. We thought so too. I think we need to study it. For science." Matt added.

 

JC nodded. "We'll definitely have to do that. I'm just wondering why it said what it said. Seems pretty ominous to me."

 

Teala gasped. "Wait... what if-"

 

And, all of a sudden, an absolutely overstuffed yet somehow tiny red car careened into the area, whilst sounding off the most obnoxious car horn JC had ever heard in his life.

 

The car skidded to a stop directly in front of the three guests, almost tipping over as the sheer momentum of the car prevented it from coming to a complete stop.

Clowns slowly tumbled out of the small vehicle, grabbing their small pocket knives and settling into battle positions, while the clowns below them complained of cramps in their legs and the driver of the car complained fervently about road safety whilst waving what looked like a road rule handbook at anyone who cared to look.

 

“Oh you have GOT to be kidding me. A clown car?!” Matt groaned.

 

“That thing is absolutely overstuffed!” JC stared in horror as more clowns piled out of the car. The amount never seemed to end. The clowns just kept coming. It was almost as though they came from another dimension entirely, and the entrance to said dimension was directly on the floor of the car.

 

It. Was. Horrifying.

 

“Damn straight it is!” The driver (another clown) screeched, annoyed. “The road rules clearly state that there must be no more passengers than the amount of available seats in the car, and here we are! I am leaning on some guy’s butt, there is a leg pushing against my rear view mirror and whenever I look down I get a face full of hair!”

 

“Then why the hell did you volunteer to drive it?” Teala demanded, swatting at the neverending pile of clowns.

 

“For your information, I didn’t volunteer for anything. You try telling a pratfall of clowns armed with knives that you don’t want to drive their clown car.” The driver scoffed.

 

It was a fair point. The guests stopped fighting for a moment to nod at this extremely wise idea, then realised that putting down their weapons was a bad idea and continued fighting.

 

But, even as they fought, they could not beat the nigh-infinite amount of clowns bearing down on their nice thicc butts. Even Roi’s absolutely random knife-lobbing had only a slight chance of actually hitting one (though, admittedly, the Daredevil was having an awesome time gunning down any clown he saw, and considering that the tent was literally full of clowns now, he was proving to be their greatest asset.) JC sighed in defeat. Only a surprise from the shadows could save them now…

 

\---

 

During this slight altercation, two individuals had stayed in the shadows of the challenge until now. Mortimer and Calliope, both unwilling to mess with fate, had originally opted to stay out of the way of the burgeoning big bloody battle. (correction: Calliope cited various reasons, including the idea that meteors will literally fall on their heads and the fires of hell will consume their bodies upon any step out of fate’s alignments, and Mortimer, being an admittedly pretty gullible individual, agreed that it was pretty much a good idea to let fate do it’s thing. If only because he had been having a pretty good life up until tonight, thank you very much, and he wasn’t exactly interested in going the way of his dear, sweet mother (bless her soul)). However, having seen the absolute mess that was slowly snowballing into an even bigger absolute mess, Calliope figured that this was probably what the fates intended and they went to help.

 

(by ‘what the fates had foretold’, we actually mean that fate had been thoroughly fucked over, so the duo decided simultaneously to ‘stuff it’ and help the guests anyway.)

 

Looking at their opponents, both Mortimer and Calliope decided that the best way to stop the onslaught of continuous clown-car-clowns was to stop it at it’s source.

Considering, though, that the source was currently overflowing with clowns in every direction possible (even upwards and floating around in midair- should anyone really be surprised by this at this point?) it was going to be a tough operation.

 

Touching the clown car with their own two hands was likely bordering on impossible (and would likely end in a few choice limbs moving house, if you know what I mean), so Mortimer opted to bridge the gap by using a long pole and fulcrum to jack it onto it’s side.

 

Explaining to Calliope his plan, Calliope nodded and ran to quickly grab a circus stage on the side of the tent. Mortimer quickly took up the opportunity to find himself a pole.

 

Unfortunately, for a circus show, there were remarkably few poles. Mortimer wasn’t sure whether to chalk it up to the fact that these demon clowns probably didn’t have much use for poles anyway, taking into account that they seemed to be more about the whole ‘death to all infidels’ thing, or whether to blame the author for making his life difficult.

 

(oh, okay, he’s decided on the latter. Hang on, let me skip forward a bit…

…

…

...

Gee, he really has a lot to say about me, doesn’t he?

…

…

…

Hmph.

…

...

…

Alright, I’ll leave it here. Sorry about that. Let’s get on with the story, shall we?)

 

“-buttface.” Mortimer finished his rant, and continued his search. As he was getting desperate, for anything- ANYTHING- resembling a pole, his eyes finally alighted on exactly what he was looking for. It was long, sturdy, and in Mortimer’s opinion, absolutely beautiful.

 

He went to grab it…

 

“...Mortimer! NO!” shouted a voice from behind, trying to stop him.

 

...but the damage had already been done.

 

Having established earlier that clowns are not exactly the best of carpenters, and really only know how to form wormholes to different dimensions to fill their bottomless clown cars, it was quite clear that anything they put together wasn’t exactly going to work too well. And it wasn’t like the Carnival Master was going to put together EVERYTHING. At some point, you’ve got to outsource. You can’t exactly leave your evil agenda until the last minute.

 

Except, he made the mistake of outsourcing the job to clowns.

 

Who can’t put up a tent to save their useless lives.

 

So, when Mortimer grabbed and ripped the tent pole out of it’s socket, four other tent poles fell over with it, slamming down into the dirt with a loud ‘BAM.’

 

And half of the tent began to fall over on top of him.

 

“Quick, or the whole thing’s going to smother us!” the voice yelled, grabbing Mortimer (and his pole by extension) and pulling him out of the tent’s way. They quickly ran to the other side of the tent, puffing heavily. After a few minutes to recuperate, Mortimer felt a light shove on his arm.

 

“Mortimer, what the heck are you doing?!” Safiya demanded, having come back from the divine lounge to witness a massacre of the most epic proportions (and dodge the barrage of knives sent near her direction). After dropping off the artifact in it’s proper place- and dodging the barrage of questions her fellow guests sent her way- she had rushed straight back, figuring that she had better help her comrades out. Though, upon seeing the absolute horror that was a _clown car_ , she figured that her time was better spent avoiding the fight. That is, before seeing Mortimer proceed to bring the circus down on their heads.

 

“We needed a pole.” Mortimer explained, holding up his prize. “We were going to tip the car. Calliope’s getting a fulcrum, and I’ve got the pole. We reckoned the barrage would lessen if the car was on it’s side.”

 

Safiya nodded. “Hm. That does make some sort of sense. How were you planning on sneaking up on the car, though? With all the clowns around it, an ambush attack seems difficult.”

Mortimer grimaced. “Uhhh…”

 

All of a sudden, Calliope raced up. “Mortimer, did you drop the tent?” she asked, her face wild and screwed up in fear.

 

“...yeah?”

 

“Because the clown car’s smothered. If we can get the guests out from under it and make sure the clowns stay there, we’re golden.”

 

Mortimer started for a moment. Then, his mouth widened into a shit-eating grin.

 

“And you told me that taking the pole was a bad thing.” He snarked to Safiya.

 

Safiya gave him a deadpan look. “It still doesn’t change the fact that you could have smothered the other guests. Especially since the overall number of clowns in this room is too large to count.”

 

With that, Calliope and Safiya rushed to the collapsed area of the tent. “Well, just saying!” Mortimer yelled, trailing along behind.

 

\---

 

Roi, Teala, Matt and JC slowly struggled their way out from under the canvas, screaming every time some sort of weird entity grabbed them by the ankle and pulled them in a bit. Every brush against some sort of disembodied entity had JC kicking out, aiming directly for whatever he could find.

 

As for Roi, this did not dampen his knife use. At all. Despite the fact that he should in fact be all out of knives by now, he seemed to have an almost infinite supply, and he used said infinite supply to skewer as many clown eyes (both living and very much dead) as he possibly could.

Of course, this meant that he didn’t crawl as quickly out from under the tent as he should have, and thus Teala had to pretty much drag him out with some help from Matt (considering that she was threatening him with death by chair if he didn’t bother. Being someone who had witnessed said chair-weapon proficiency, he didn’t exactly want to push the envelope.)

 

Safiya stood at the edge of the tent, carefully pulling each of the guests out from under the heavy canvas. Once JC was free, he also stood and helped everyone slowly drag Roi out.

 

Eventually everyone was out. Roi, having brought his knife with him (with all the skewered eyes in tow), ended up making sure everyone stayed at least five feet from his person. While also counting for three feet extra as a general smell radius. And two more feet as a these-demon-things-will-probably-possess-me-if-I-stand-too-close precaution.

Giving the knife a critical look, Roi disgustedly poked out his tongue. “You know, it looked much better under the tent. Now I just look like a psychopath holding up his eye collection.”

 

Matt grimaced. ”Ehhhhh… you know… a bit. Just a little bit.” Everyone else nodded in agreement.

 

“I think I’ll just leave it here.” Roi placed the knife on the ground, kicking it away a little. Everyone near it jumped away in fright. “I’ve got a huge supply of knives anyway!”

 

“Oi! What are you guys doing waitin’ around for! Get moving!” Mortimer shouted in their direction, pointing to the mass of clowns trapped under the canvas. Somehow the clowns hadn’t figured out how to get out from under the tent yet and were still flailing around, trying to find the guests. (surprisingly, for a bunch of murderous clowns, they didn’t seem to have a brain cell between them.)

 

Taking the hint, each of the guests copied the two quickly grabbed heavy objects, dragging them over and placing them over a section of the tent. JC, Matt, Safiya and Calliope all made their way outside the tent, with JC and Matt taking one side and Safiya and Calliope taking the other. Both groups scouted the carnival area, dragging whatever they could find out of each of the tents on the outskirts and on top of part of the canvas.

At one point Matt dragged some sort of absolutely revolting toilet outside, cautioning JC that it wasn’t a good idea to tip it over- his skin was most definitely eroding away from whatever was in it, and he had no doubt that the canvas they were trying to hold down probably would too. JC took the hint, and the two heaved the toilet on top of the canvas (all while JC was telling Matt to ‘seriously, go get that checked out, there’s gotta be some sort of doctor in this backwater town’, and Matt was telling JC ‘What freaking doctor, there’s literally NO ONE here apart from carnival people. Should I ask the clowns whether one of them is a MD?!’).

 

After a few more objects, the tent was secure. JC stood back to admire their handiwork. The clowns (and their clown car) were securely fixed under the tent, and despite how much they flailed, it wasn’t likely they’d be getting out soon.

 

Eventually, Matt stood back with him, a contemplative expression on his face. “You know, I can still hear a car engine.”

 

JC nodded. “Mmhmmm.”

 

“Do you think they’re probably suffocating from carbon monoxide poisoning?”

 

“Yeah, probably.”

 

A voice rang out from under the canvas. “Holy fuck you’re right, we’re all going to fucking die… I’m going to turn off the engine. Stupid me- get out of the way, do you WANT to bloody die- STUPID!” the driver shouted, and soon after the slight rumbling underneath the tent shut off.

 

JC nodded, his eyebrows raised. “Welp, that’s solved.”

 

“They’re probably still going to die, though.”

 

“True.”

 

Safiya and Calliope came around to stand beside them, evaluating the duo’s handwork carefully before nodding in approval. No clowns would be getting out this side of the tent tonight.

Mortimer, Teala and Roi ran outside the tent, apparently finished with their task and high-fiving each other happily. Upon seeing the others, they raced over.

 

“WOOOOO!!!!” Teala yelled, her (naturally, a bit bloody) hands in the air. “We FUCKING DID IT!!!”

 

“Damn straight we did! They’ll be telling our stories for years to come! Our names will be spoken with fear!” Roi grinned.

 

A questioning look on her face, Safiya raised a finger. “There’s still one thing that puzzles me. How did you manage to get out of those bonds, Teala? They seemed pretty tight.”

 

JC nodded. “Yeah. It really felt as though those clowns were out to take prisoners.”

 

Teala hummed, then smirked. “Well, they don’t call me the Super Spy for nothing!”

 

Everyone looked at her incredulously. (Especially JC, who was pretty sure that if he had been hanging there a moment longer, his hands would have probably fallen off.)

 

Eventually, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Someone else did. It was funny to see you all think I was Houdini or something, though!”

 

Safiya’s eyebrows went up. “Then…there’s only one plausible explanation...” Safiya began.

 

Everyone looked at Roi.

 

“Well… everyone WAS kinda focused on JC. And in Matt’s case, the floor.” Matt blushed.

“So, it was pretty simple really. Then I just had to tell Teala what I was planning, and the rest was history.” Roi grinned.

 

JC walked forward and tapped him on the shoulder. “Honestly, if you hadn’t been there to help, I’d be dead. Thank you so much. I mean that.”

 

“Ey, man, it’s fine. Risky shit is all part of the daredevil business, so I figured I’d have a go at saving your asses.” Roi shrugged. “‘S all good.”

 

“Just… one thing, though.” JC said. “Please. Work on your knife throwing skills. You saved me, and then you almost killed me. And everyone else. And quite a few circus tables.”

 

Roi acquiesced. “Yeah, in hindsight, some training before this might have been a good idea.”

 

Everyone nodded slowly.

 

\---

 

“It has been literally for ever.” Nikita groaned. “How long does it take to kill people?!”

 

“A while, apparently.” Colleen watched a clock on the wall. “And isn’t Roi supposed to be here now? It seriously doesn’t take this long to use the bathroom.”

 

Joey had begun rocking back and forth in worry for at least ten minutes now, and each rock had only increased in height since then. “They really shouldn’t be taking this long. Something’s up.”

 

Then, there was a noise outside, and the room fell silent as the fridge opened. The challenge was over, and their friends were coming back. While it had been interesting to speculate as to why the challenge had taken so long, most of the guests in the room now wished that they had had a bit more time. The fact that one of them wouldn’t step out the door was now becoming clearer to them than ever, and a feeling of dread was beginning to settle in the pit of their stomachs. At least outside, the two contestants were in a state like that of schrodinger's cat. You couldn’t be sure they were alive, and you couldn’t be sure they were dead. But now, they had to face the reality. One of them was gone.

 

So, when all five guests entered the room, everyone couldn’t help but stare.

 

Rosanna gasped. “You’re all alive!”

 

“And COMPLETELY covered in blood.” Nikita gave them an incredulous look. “What the fuck were you doing out there? Murdering the clowns?”

 

“Uhhhhh…” Teala began.

 

“Yup, that was pretty much what we did.” JC said, shaking his hands.

 

“They’re all under a tent canvas now, probably stewing about their life choices.” Matt added.

 

“And trying to get out of their clown car.” Safiya finished.

 

“Wait, there was a clown car involved?” Manny asked, an incredulous look on his face.

 

“Yup, and it was endless.” Matt shuddered. “The clowns wouldn’t stop coming. It was an eternal pit of clowns. It’s probably what you see when you die and enter h-e-double hockey sticks.”

 

Everyone nodded except for Joey, who seemed to be almost overcome with shock.

 

“So, let me get this straight. Everyone survived?” Joey asked.

 

“Yes. Everyone did indeed manage to get out alive.” Safiya responded.

 

“...I need some time. Give me a few minutes.” Joey got up and left the room, exiting through the fridge into the arcade.

 

There was silence for a moment.

 

“He totally wanted someone to die, didn’t he?” Colleen deadpanned.

 

“I wouldn’t say wanted. Just expected. I mean, the rest of us kinda expected someone to die, now didn’t we?” Rosanna resolved, hopping to Joey’s defense.

 

“True that.”

 

“So. Roi.” Manny began after a while. “You weren’t at the bathroom at all, were you?”

 

\---

 

This was wrong.

 

This was all wrong.

 

Joey paced the arcade, his hands screwed up in his hair. The contract stated that his friends had to die! What if some sort of backlash came from this?!

 

He had to save this town.

 

He had to help the SAE.

 

He could NOT die again.

 

Joey lowered his hands from his head and quickly checked his old stab wound. It wasn’t reopening, and no blood was gushing out. The skin was whole, unblemished.

 

As though nothing had happened at all.

 

There had to be a reason he wasn’t dying yet. He had broken the contract and he should be dead.

 

A memory rose, unbidden, and he dashed to the door, looking outward. The last time something like this had occurred, the evil mastermind of the entire operation had arrived to do the deed their underlings had failed to do. Would this happen now? Was this the reason he wasn’t dying?

 

But, as he kept looking, he realised that no one was coming. The street outside was devoid of life, and he couldn’t hear anything. (He did hear some muffled screams, though, but he decided not to go out and check.)

 

So, was he free? Was he free of the binding contract he signed himself to, and allowed to keep his life in the process?

 

_“HEY! JOEY! THE MAP’S CHANGED! COME LOOK!”_

 

Perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> As the enemies in ETN tend to disappear shortly after the guest sacrifice has been made (I think!) this means that, in this case, the clowns just won't vanish. At all.  
> So, for the sake of this ad hoc plot of mine, we're just going to assume that the clowns (the ones that are clearly alive and not very much dead) (including the resurrected clown though) just leave the area complaining about not getting to murder someone and go play poker somewhere.  
> While using eyeballs (any will do- though, a colossal squid eye is always a thrill) as poker chips and making sure that Molly the Murderer over there doesn't start eating them. Or hoarding them under the table.  
> YES, MOLLY. WE SEE YOU.


End file.
